Gemotions

He stared at the small, plastic test tube as if it were a venomous snake. The DNA kit lay on the counter, mocking him. He had spat into it, sealed it, sent it away with a shrug. Now, the results were here, waiting. His hands felt cold, clammy. He turned away from the kitchen window, where the autumn leaves were falling.

A wave of dizziness washed over him. His heart hammered a frantic rhythm against his ribs. He pictured his parents, their faces, their voices. The thought of them, of *them*, being less than he always thought… he just couldn't process it. He reached for the coffee cup, spilling some down the front of his shirt. He barely noticed. The screen of his phone beckoned. He didn’t want to look.